Fracture repaired

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On Tuesday (4.26.05) after Dr. Karas examined Lenore’s X-rays, he described her hip fracture as Intertrochanteric. The fracture and the treatment he recommended are illustrated in the drawings above.

At 7:30am this morning, he did the surgery, just as he had planned. When he emerged from the operating room, he assured me that everything had gone well and that he anticipates a good result.

In Lenore’s favor, in spite of all the birthdays she keeps accumulating, is the fact that she is still a vigorous, shapely and supremely healthy woman. Her physical condition is excellent. There is no one I know who can match her vacuuming a flight of stairs. And as everyone knows, she is an active and quite proficient bowler. While her putting could stand improvement, she can hit a long, straight ball down our fairways. An inveterate hiker, she walks up and down our hills like a young doe. And be apprised that she was always an excellent dancer. But, and sadly there is a but, like all of us who have entered our twilight years, Lenore too, has osteoporosis, that bane of the elderly.

Bad news!

Regrettably, I have bad news to report!

This morning, at about 10:30, Lenore was walking unassisted from our kitchen to the dining room, when all of a sudden she felt dizzy and lost her balance. Reaching for the dining room table to support herself, her hand slipped on the the lace table cover and as she fell to the floor, her left leg twisted. When she called out to me, I ran quickly to her assistance but I saw at a glance that she had hurt herself severely.

I called 911 immediately and in no time our local Security was at the door. Together, we agreed to put in a call for the ambulance. Before it arrived, Maria Sanyshyn from the Somers Pointe Golf Club telephoned me. When I told her what had happened, she rushed right over and was amazingly helpful throughout the crisis. When the paramedics got here, in no time Lenore was placed on a stretcher and she was rushed to the Northern Westchester Hospital Emergency Room. Before I left home in my own car, I called my daughter Lorna, and she proceeded to notify our family.

At the hospital, Lenore was immediately connected to all the usual electronic monitors and then after she was examined, she was x-rayed. Dr Evan Karas, the orthopedist, confirmed that she had fractured her left hip. He has scheduled her for surgery tomorrow at 7:30am. This is the type of fracture, he said, that calls for a rod to be placed through the head and upper shaft of the thigh bone. He conveyed some well received optimism about the eventual result.

All through the day, Lorna, her husband Jim and my two sons, Tom and Fred were at the emergency room with us. Their presence was immensely supportive to Lenore and to me, as well. I know that all of my family and friends, who have already heard this news, feel deeply distressed. I will endeavor, as best I can, to keep everyone informed as we go on.

Pray for us, please!

Suburban Golf

Yeah, that's little old me

Kudos from the Somers Pointe GC to the Journal News (www.thejournalnews.com) for keeping all the residents of Westchester, Putnam and Rockland counties so well informed about general and local news. But we who play golf are especially indebted to the Journal for its in-depth, illustrated reporting of Suburban Golf. Credit is extended to its brilliant young editor, Sean Mayer and his outstanding staff. I was privileged to be interviewed by Andrew Gross, a peerless sports reporter, and photographed from every imaginable angle by their ace photographers, Mark Vergari and Joseph Larese.

Not generally known is that Todd Polidor, our eminently dedicated course superintendent, can trace a direct line to his Trojan ancestor Polydor, King Priam’s youngest son. He was the one who built an 18-hole golf course, the world's first, within the walled city of Troy. History grossly misstates the cause of the Trojan War. It says something about the Greeks descending on Troy to retrieve Helen, Menelaus's spouse. She had left him to sleep in Troy with Paris, another of Priam's sons. What really led to the war was that the Greeks had come to Troy in their yachts in order to play on Polydor's magnificent golf course and the Pro, the King's eldest son Hector, refused to let them on the course. He claimed that none of the Greeks were properly dressed, nor were they equipped with clubs to play the game. They didn’t even have spikes. The War then ensued, and that is an unassailable fact!

Which brings us to Somers Pointe. The CEO of North American Properties (whose jurisdiction covers much of this planet’s Real Estate, some other Golf Courses and even several Marinas) in a moment of moistened lightheadedness renamed Heritage Hills GC, Somers Pointe GC, perhaps thinking it was one of his marinas on Long Island Sound. (Somers Hills would have been topographically more appropriate). Not long afterwards, Jacques Chirac, the Prime Minister of France, called to tell me to make sure that every member and visitor pronounced our newly bestowed name with Gallic purity (pwanteh). Then as he proceeded to tell me how the French now pronounce George Bush, I hung up on him. But, in an effort to undo this geodetic error, Somers Pointe now designates its location (on its scorecard) by its geographical coordinates. That means, in our current GPS world, all you have to do is punch in those figures and you won’t find yourself on a beach in Connecticut. Indeed where you will almost certainly wind up, is at the Pinnacle of Somers, one of Westchester’s premier restaurants. It is an integral part of our Golf Club and it shares the same premises as our Pro Shop and offices.

Now, so you don’t get hassled like those ancient Greeks, if you should happen to arrive at Somers Pointe needing any attire or equipment, no problemo! Our Pro Shop has ample supplies of up to the minute apparel and the very latest golf equipment. You will also find that Adam Smith, our PGA Pro, is a masterful teacher and that every member of his team is superlatively helpful. But please don’t miss the opportunity to make the acquaintance of our executive dynamo, Maria Sanyshyn. Endowed with an abundance of elan, she has super-energized our entire operation.

In conclusion, although on occasion he may have lapses when it comes to nomenclature, Mr. Adler is an admittedly successful CEO. But what is particularly noteworthy about him is that he has unmatchable skills when it comes to finding and appointing the key members of his staff.

Leonora ferita

Mi Amor ~ wounded in action

Though seriously disabled, what bothers her more is that

she feels she is now a burden on me, our family and our friends.

It all started last Saturday when Lenore and I were on our way home from my sister Mary’s post-funeral luncheon at Mulino’s in White Plains. We got to Somers at about 5pm and because we had no cash, we stopped at the ATM. When Lenore got out of the car and started walking to the bank, she tripped and fell headlong. Her face impacted solidly with the ground and she sustained two lacerations, one on her nose and the other on her forehead. Bleeding was profuse (we are both on coumadin). Her left wrist was injured and it looked deformed. She was unable to rise by herself. With nobody around to help, it was a herculean struggle for senescent me to get her back to her feet and into the car. Though she pleaded with me to be taken home, it was obvious she needed emergency medical care.

Holding tissues to her bleeding points, I drove at breakneck speed to Northern Westchester Hospital. At the ER we were quickly "triaged." The staff there couldn’t have been more helpful. The bleeding was staunched and the lacerations were sutured. X-rays showed impacted fractures of the distal ends of her left ulna and radius (Colles fracture). My son Tom, my daughter Lorna and my nephew Allen arrived and gave us much needed emotional and physical support. The orthopedist, Dr Karas, placed her forearm in a splint. Then, after signing multiple waivers, we were discharged. Together, we made our way back home, and got there about four hours and thirty minutes after she fell.

It’s been nip and tuck since last Saturday. Our flight of stairs to our bedroom has not been easy to negotiate. We’ve had to discover brand new ways to get up and down safely and getting to and from the bathroom, and shower has not been easy. Then, two days ago, early in the morning, she developed a spontaneous, major nosebleed. Drawing on whatever clinical acumen I still had, I finally got it to stop, but I was only inches away from calling 911. Then finally things did settle down and the remainder of the week went passably well.

While we were at the Mt Kisco Medical Group today, to get a fiberglass cast applied to her forearm, we had her right knee x-rayed. Sure enough, the patella is fractured. So, in addition to all the baggage she is already lugging, she now has to wear a knee brace.

But the really good side of all this unexpected travail is that everyone we know has been so eager and willing to be helpful, friends and family alike. It has also been great for me to discover that I’ve been able to rise to the occasion and do whatever needs doing. How truly wonderful it is to keep probing new dimensions of love.

Original Sin ?

Michelangelo's Version of Original Sin
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The Cardinals are about to elect a new Pope. Although during this conclave they will reside at Casa Santa Marta, their deliberating will again be done under the frescoed ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. And as on previous occasions when their glances drift upwards, their gaze will almost certainly come to rest on those panels showing Adam and Eve "sinning" and then being expelled from Eden.

The ancient Greeks believed that Athena, Zeus’s favorite daughter, sprang fully grown from his brow. The Bible says that Eve emerged as an adult young woman from one of Adam’s ribs. But whereas Athena had great wisdom, Eve was not endowed with great prudence. In seconds, she sinuously succumbed to the slithery serpent’s seductive suggestion that she should eat fruit from the sacred shrub and share it with her spouse. This led to their banishment from the Garden of Eden.

Although Hebraic theology attaches no profound consequences to that event, Christians extracted from it the concept of Original Sin. Quintus Tertullian, the theologian son of a Roman Centurion was the first to use that phrase. Soon afterwards, Saint Augustine, who in his Confessions asked, “Give me chastity and continence, but not just now” preached that the stigma of Original Sin is transmitted by human procreation. While baptism is practiced by many faiths, Christians believe that the cleansing waters of baptism help to wash away the stains of Original Sin.

Michelangelo’s cynicism led him to portray a much different scenario from that described in the Bible. Eve munching on an apple with Adam made no sense to him. With the tacit consent of his patron, Pope Julius II, he endeavored to show that it was the human misuse of sexuality that really angered God. The artist reasoned that Adam and Eve simply had no basic understanding of procreative sex. Their reproductive organs were divinely furnished but sans instructions. Viewing this flaw in His plan, God must have become upset with Himself. In effect, He had created two human adults who had no sexual knowledge or experience. But nevertheless, their summary ejection from the Garden worked wonders. Elsewhere they learned quickly how to reproduce themselves.

Except for those few cryptic phrases in Genesis, we have no other information as to what transpired in Eden. The scene conjured by Michelangelo was distilled from the cortex of his cerebrum. Was he given cues or directions? Who knows? But even so, no matter what other input flowed into his brain, Genesis is the book in which that event was first described. And not one photographer or reporter was there! There? Where? Does anybody really know where Eden was? Was there a Garden of Eden? In conclusion, the only sense that can be made of the sinning and expulsion panels, is that they were the products of a Renaissance mind and time.

Addendum: Viewed from any perspective, the Garden of Eden story is laden with symbolism. Parallels can easily be drawn between our own conception and birth and the creation of Adam and Eve followed by their expulsion. After our own emergence from Eden (our mother’s womb) we wander around, cord in hand, seeking to re-establish what in fact was never more than a peripheral connection to our alleged father. Whereas we should be striving to re-establish a more vital relationship with "Mother Earth" we embark on an endless search for that elusive male gamete. Along the way, we have created so many legends and mythologies about that phantom, that we now have as many "fathers" as we have different religions. And to our dismay, we invariably discover that each one of those "fathers" seems more disposed to obliterate us than to display any genuine affection or concern for us. The "gods" that so many of us so passionately worship, seem never to tire of hurling thunderbolts, floods, plagues and wars at us. I find it noteworthy, however, that in contrast to most other religions, Christianity did start with a loveable and benevolent mother figure, who stayed there right through her son's crucifixion, entombment and resurrection.

Eulogy

Excerpted from Adrienne's Eulogy
delivered during her mother's funeral at
St. Bernard's Church in White Plains on 4.16.05

Since last September, my family has gone from one major crisis to another, and now the sudden death of my Mom on Wednesday night.

My mom was born into a close-knit Italian family on July 24, 1918. She had two devoted parents and two loving brothers, my Uncle Alfred who is deceased and my Uncle Dom who is with us today. But my mother had a very difficult marriage. In the middle of one night, she was driven to flee our home with we three children wearing only the clothes on our backs and what we could throw in the car. At a time when divorce was still uncommon, Mom’s action was a testament to her strength, it showed her unflagging determination to provide safety for her children.

Mom struggled to support us and she unceasingly encouraged us to complete our education. She made many personal sacrifices, even sleeping on a pullout couch for many years so that Chrissy and I could share a bedroom. Although she has had numerous operations, she never was a burden to anyone. She has been my role model as a long-term cancer survivor.

My mother’s last job was in the Therapeutic Activities Department at New York Hospital. After she retired fifteen years ago, she continued to serve there as a volunteer, every week. Indeed, she would have been there this past Tuesday, had she not collapsed.

She was a voracious reader, often reading four books at a time. She was up to date on the latest news and Hollywood gossip. She even had several letters published in the New York Times. But her last act was a shopping jaunt into town and knowing Mom, that was the way she would have chosen to go. The first question she will ask when she reaches heaven will be, "Is there a TJ Maxx, a Filene’s Basement and an Antiques store up here?"

She was devoted to her two grandchildren, Mara and Amanda. At this time last year we were knee deep in preparations for Mara and Rob’s wedding. As many of you know, my mother was very fastidious about her appearance. We spent days in many different stores. Though she loves black, she wanted to try a different color for the wedding. In the last store, Loehman’s in the Bronx, I reached for a black evening skirt and held it up for her. "But it’s black," she said. To which I retorted, "At this point, I don’t care!" After finding her a matching black top, I thought the outfit was complete. But a few days later, she said, "I was reading Vogue and I saw a picture of Marlene Dietrich. She was wearing a beautiful black and green shawl. Take me back to the fabric store and let’s make me a similar one." Back we went. We bought the fabric and after I sewed it together, I thought we were finished at last. But a few days later, she called to say, "The shawl was too long. I cut it and made it shorter." And then there were the shoes! Today, we lovingly bury Mom in this very outfit she so dearly loved. And she has her lipstick and her jewelry, including her favorite pin from Venice.

Mom was a true lady, always dignified and impeccably groomed. She was always kind, gentle and loving. She rarely argued or raised her voice. She never berated anyone. Whenever our tempers flared, my mother always remained calm and invariably soothed us. Fiercely independent, she took care of herself in her beautiful apartment without ever asking for help.

In conclusion, my brother Doug, my sister Chrissy, I and the rest of our family, sincerely thank you for coming to celebrate my Mom’s life. Please remember her gentle smile and warm disposition, and keep her in your prayers. May God bless you.

Pray for us

Obituary

(Left click on foto to enlarge it) Mary Gabriele D'Alois, a 45 year resident of White Plains, NY, died on April 13, 2005. She was 86. Born July 24, 1918 in New York to Quintino and Ninfa Gabriele. Mary worked as an administrative assistant for New York Hospital, Therapeutic activities, and after her retirement, she continued to volunteer there. Mrs. D'Alois was a gentle, loving and dignified lady, who was totally devoted to her family and sacrificed her whole life for them. She is survived by three children: Adrienne Strasberg (Roger); Douglas D'Alois and Christine Stelmack. She is also survived by one brother, Domenic Gabriele, MD and two grandchildren. She was predeceased by her brother, Alfred Gabriele. Visitation will be Friday 2-4 and 7-9 pm at McMahon, Lyon & Hartnett Funeral Home. Mass on Saturday, 11 am, St. Bernard's Church. Entombment, Gate of Heaven Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the American Heart Association or the American Cancer Society. MCMAHON, LYON & HARTNETT FUNERAL HOME, INC. 491 Mamaroneck Avenue, White Plains (914) 949-7777

Ave Maria, full of gentleness and grace, the Lord has always been with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed has been the fruit of thy womb, Adrienne, Douglas and Christine. Dearest Mary, pray for us, mourners now, and please be there to console us at the hour of our death. Amen

Pax vobiscum

A Papal Symbol

I think Pope John Paul II is trying to tell us something, but nobody is really listening. I think he is trying to say, "Enough already! Enough with all this sprinkling of holy water on me and why isn't there any Polish Vodka in it? Put me in my crypt. I need rest. Send everybody home. Let them get back to what they were doing. They are tired. They have been through too much on my account."

There is a trace of a smile on his face. Perhaps he is amusing himself running a lot of his favorite stories through his mind. I’m sure he paid more than passing attention to those dark rumors that during the middle ages an occasional Borgia woman had gotten herself installed as pope. But then, the Middle Ages, like most ages before and since, always hummed with all kinds of embroidered fabrications.

There is no doubt, however, that Pope John Paul II would like his successor to embrace the watchwords of my Abruzzese ancestors, "Forte e gentile." There is much work to be done in the world and the Church needs a leader who will be strong but gentle. He is hoping too, that the Pope who will walk in his shoes will be divinely inspired and that he will unceasingly strive to bring peace and understanding to all nations.